Breaking Potter
by Vampire Louis
Summary: Many people have always been under the impression that Harry James Potter, the boy who lived, is a kind and gentleperson in absolutely every aspect of his life. This, of course, is a gross misconception." Draco POV. HxD
1. Problem Solving

**Breaking Potter**

**Chapter 1**: _Problem Solving_

**Pairing**: DracoxHarryxDraco

**Rated**: pg13

**Warnings: ****Strongly** implied yaoi/slash and a swear word or two

**Legal stuff: **Well... I think it's obvious but I'll state it anyway. I down own them! Please don't sue me? I'm poor... seriously...SERIOUSLY.

**Author notes: **Allllright it's been FOREVER since I posted ANYTHING and I think it's about time that I actually post a fic. This fic takes place sometime after Harry's second year but before the last year and it's from Draco's perspective. Dun Dun duuuuun. The first part isn't too naughty but the second part is a bit more so, so keep an eye out for that (yes, there is only two parts).

**Feedback: **I'll admit it, I'm a review whore.

**Thanks to: **The people who read this :D!

* * *

Many people have always been under the impression that Harry James Potter, the boy who lived, is a kind and gentleperson in absolutely every aspect of his life. This, of course, is a gross misconception.

While Harry may be kind and gentle with his friends, colleges, and various other assorted individuals, Harry is neither kind nor gentle with me. Never has been and doubtfully ever will be.

An average person might say this is because I bring out the worst in the boy - that I provoke him until he strikes and that I get every ounce of what I deserve. Fortunately the average person is usually, if not always, shamefully wrong.

I don't believe I bring out the worst in Potter, I believe I bring out the reality of Potter -the things that have been hiding under the surface. For you see, and I WOULD know this better than anyone else, beneath all that goodly-natured-Gryffindor crap beats the blood of a perfectly driven Slytherin.

He could have been one of us but, I suppose, if he had been… he wouldn't have been nearly as interesting and I wouldn't be in the predicament that I'm in now.

Potter is my opponent in life, my sworn enemy since we formally met on the train. Which is somewhat tragic because I had had it in my mind to make a friend of the boy I'd met in that clothing store on Diagon Alley. He was the first Hoggwarts student (my own age) that I'd met that day and when I later figured out who he really was... I wanted him.

Not in that sexually driven manor, persay, but in that all-consuming need to have someone in your life, sort of way. That definite absolute **must**. Yes, from the moment we met I knew that the boy with unruly black hair and brilliant green eyes would play a significant role in my life.

It was fate, if you believe in such nonsense.

I'm not sure if my father would have agreed with my obsession or not. He was certainly interested in the boy -grant it, not with _quit_ as much gusto as myself, but he never quite made it clear if I should destroy the boy who lived or bring him over to our side of things. And because of this, I assumed his blatant obscurity was a sure sign of his authorization in allowing **me** to decide what I should do with my life for the **first** **time** in my life.

In retrospect, I should have realized that his poignant lack of commentary was on account of the fact that he didn't have a damn clue what to do about Mr. Harry Potter.

And really… little surprise there. My father doesn't have much of a clue about _anything_. Oh sure, he could _act_ like he knew all your dirty little secrets and exactly how to use them against you but it was little more than that, an act.

Can you guess who I learned most of my... less-than-endearing traits from?

Anyway…

Over the time I spent observing Potter (closely) I started to notice traces of unusual patterns in his normally passive friendly behavior. Only minute things, of course -things that even his closest of friends wouldn't have caught. Things like how worked up he started getting over little stuff. Or how he wounded much deeper and more quickly than he would have in his first or second year.

The great Harry Potter was growing very thin indeed, his nerves and self-respect being frayed away by the weight of all the obligations that came of him and his name.

I hate to say it, but I _related_.

I, unlike most of the babbling **simpletons** at that damned school, _understood_ what it meant to have to live up to a name you didn't ask for. What it meant to fill out all those nearly impossibly expectancies that people had come to count on you for. After all, I AM a Malfoy.

In my more sagacious (if you will) perspective from the present, I suppose it was because I finally found a really significant common ground with my obsession that I started pushing him even harder. My words became crueler, my pranks became more dangerous and all those buttons I knew I could push, I pushed.

And I did it because I wanted him to explode.

I wanted to see the _real_ Harry Potter and what laid beneath that facade of his. Glimpses were no longer enough, I **had** to know and I would do whatever it took to find out.

Unfortunately, what it took to find out was _time_.

****

Much

more time than I had anticipated.

May it never be said that a Potter doesn't have an iron will of resistance. I found myself mirthlessly impressed by how much force he put into maintaining his composure and repelling any opposition (me) that tried to break it down. However, may it also be ubiquitously known that a Malfoy's stubborn determination can out-last _anything_ which, gleefully, includes Potters.

As previously stated, it took **a lot** of time and diligence to run him down but it finally happened. And let me tell you, it wasn't pretty.

When he finally cornered me in an empty classroom (and god how I _wish_ I could remember how the hell he got me in there in the first place) he let go. He simply pulled out all the restraints and just let go.

What a fucking mess.

I had never met someone more internally messed up, appallingly confused and so very enraged in my entire life. Well, other than myself on the occasion but not like this. I, for one, was not filled with a powerful sense of self-loathing that I had to cover up by projecting it onto another person.

I was, perhaps, a bit more insecure than your typical growing youth but, for gawd sake, I never doubted myself like _he_ did. And I never took myself THAT fucking seriously either.

So he just exploded on me in a flurry of furious words and gestures. The only thing I could think about for a while was that he must have put a silencing charm on the room while I wasn't looking. Surely a teacher would have come to our aid after all the racquet HE was making that night.

And then he said it.

"Why do you always have to push?! Why can't you just leave me ALONE?! Why... why are you so fucking _necessary_?"

The words had stunned me blind for all of two seconds before the dawning realization finally came to me like a cold slap to the face. Potter _needed_ me. Not just needed me but bloody well depended on me to get through his, admittedly, fucked-up existence. He needed a person he could project all that hurt and anger towards. He needed an enemy to keep pushing him and prodding him into motion, a person to remind him what he was fighting for when all the bruises and scars failed to do so.

I was NOT expecting _that_.

And the surprise must have shown on my face because his own closed up and he immediately began to back-pedal. Obviously wishing he could conjure up some kind of memory charm that would wipe the moment away.

I doubt he could have pulled a memory charm off even if his brain HAD supplied him with the words. His hands were shaking like the rest of his body and no one in _that_ condition could have performed that kind of charm and expect it to go off flawlessly. Which sucked for him because, since we were in the school, there was no leeway for error.

"Did you just admit that you NEED me, Potter?" I smirked, so cynically, as I had practiced in my dreams.

"NO!" He stammered, fumbling for an explanation that wasn't going to come to him.

My hand graciously tripped over the lock of the door behind me, clicking it into place before I moved. He hadn't heard the noise –he would never see this coming.

"Don't _li_e Potter, it's rather unbecoming of you. What would the others think if they knew their treasured golden boy _lies_ on top of everything else he does that they don't know about?"

"Stop." He snarled, eyes squeezing shut in remorse, "Just stop."

"Oh but WHY?" I pushed, slowly sauntering forward, power in every step growing with the confidence I had.

"Draco, _please_, for once in your life just let it go."

"Funny… I was just about to say the same thing to you, Harry."

It was odd using his first name without following it by some degrading remark or his last name in a mockingly formal manor. I liked the way it rolled off my tongue all by itself and, for an instant, I considered using it more often -to hell with formalities, facade or no. However, I quickly registered the unfortunate draw back to constantly being in the public eye… and that would be the rumors. Oh HOW ridiculously fast the most **outrageous** rumors spread throughout the school before leaking into the hands of outside forces.

And though the name switching was such a small and daunting thing, I knew the _real_ gravity behind it. What would Father think if he heard I had suddenly grown into a habit of using personal names when referring to the Dark Lord's #1 most wanted enemy? Dear me, I fear that would go quite badly.

"What?" The other boy's voice broke into my thoughts and my eyes instantly narrowed as if his question had somehow offended me. Just reflexes, really.

"I'm not an answering booth, Potter. You heard me. Why don't you just... let go for once. It's not like I'm going to look down upon you anymore than I already do."

He didn't trust me, _that_ much was obvious.

"You'll use it against me."

"Please." I drawled, stepping closer to him than I ever dared to in public, "Give me a little more credit for my creativity than that. Besides, it's not like anyone would believe that the great and perfect Harry Potter actually had issues -seriously deep-seated _issues_ that constantly made him..." My eyes flickered over his body before glancing back into his eyes, "Agitated."

He caught it, swallowed, and pressed himself against the far wall.

"So you're just going to offer a friendly ear then, is that it? I wasn't aware we were on such good terms."

I quirked an eyebrow at that, "We're not. I didn't say this was an amiable encounter. I was merely saying that if you felt like doing a little more screaming, I'm not going to rebuke you for it."

It was strange, I wasn't acting like myself and I'm not really sure what had overcome me or why. What I DID know was that I was advancing my advisory in heavily suggestive overtones and I was _enjoying_ it. Or maybe it was how uncomfortable I was making the boy that I was enjoying... either way, I knew I was having a damn good time. The only thing left was to do was make the final straw snap and I was pushing with everything I had in order to do it.

I-" He was faltering, suddenly loosing all that righteous anger he had built up to use against me (and I reveled on the insight). "-I... don't know what you're talking about."

"Again with the lying." I had finally managed to back him into the corner, pressing my hands against the walls on either side of his head.

He was slightly taller than me but since I had the upper hand, it hardly mattered. I WAS the intimidating force and he wasn't about to take that away from me.

"Come on Harry, just let go. I want to hear you scream."

He stared blankly at me and for a fraction of a second I wondered if he even _understood_ what a double entendre was.

"This isn't the place for it." I'll admit, I was marginally satisfied with the answer. Marginally.

"There is never going to _be_ a place for it, so here is as good as it's going to get."

I had a point and he couldn't deny it. After that, things got a LOT more interesting.

**TBC**


	2. Resolution

**Breaking Potter**

**Chapter 2**: Resoluton

**Pairing**: DracoxHarryxDraco

**Rated**: PG13

**Warnings: ****Strongly** implied yaoi/slash and a swear word or two

**Legal stuff: **Well... I think it's obvious but I'll state it anyway. I down own them! Please don't sue me? I'm poor... seriously...SERIOUSLY.

**Author notes: **Allllright it's been FOREVER since I posted ANYTHING and I think it's about time that I actually post a fic. This fic takes place sometime after Harry's second year but before the last year and it's from Draco's perspective. Dun Dun duuuuun. This is the last part of the two part fic, hope you enjoy!

**Feedback: **I'll admit it, I'm a review whore. Please review?

**Thanks to: **The people who read this :D!

* * *

I'm not sure what one would call the thing we started that night in the empty classroom. It wasn't exactly a relationship -I doubt either of us could LIKE each other enough to have a... relationship. But it wasn't just blind fucking either, there was more substance to it than that.

No, what we have is... necessary, and we know it. Neither of us would ever openly admit it but we need each other, like the light needs the dark to exist -we need the counterpart in our lives.

It took some time to adjust to the change. Going from sworn enemies to... well, sworn enemies with something more. It took time to figure out what middle ground we wanted, where our virtues lie and what exactly we meant to each other. What level of confidence we should put in each other and just how do we react to each other in public. After all, fraternizing with the enemy (even self-proclaimed ones) was a dangerous thing to do with so many powerful eyes watching.

In the end we came up with this: a dysfunctionally functioning agreement. A sort of friendly hostility, enemies out of necessity instead of honest disaccord.

To the public, friends and family -not much had changed. While still holding up our bantering and rivalry, we were often (strangely) found doing it in the company of each other more often than what was considered "normal". And it didn't seem as if the hate had been upped a level, but as if... as if we were almost _enjoying_ the malice we slung at each other.

After a while, I think some people started to believe we were a real pair of masochists. Too bad they weren't very far off from the truth.

Regrettably, they blamed the behavior change on me.

After all, the boy who lived is kind and gentleperson in absolutely every aspect of his life, right?

Oh, if only they **_knew_.**

Part of me wants to tell them the truth. Part of me so desperately wants to spill every last little horrible detail that I know about their _precious_ savior. Part of me wants it so badly that I've imagined the whole affair quite vividly in my head, the perfect scenario of how I would tell a couple of faith-blinded Gryffindors exactly what they shouldn't know. Usually I use Weasley and Granger in my mind's eye because they would be the excellent candidates for this particularly twisted fantasy of mine. I can just imagine how scandalized they would be at the very thought of what their friend was _really_ like behind their backs.

Just what would Weasley say if he knew Harry actually _befriend_ their second biggest enemy -the very one who mocked his family day in and day out for their poverty and such? What would his face look like if he found out that his best friend was not only platonically closer to the enemy but secretly fucking him because he _needed_ to, because he **wanted** to.

Oh disappointment would be bittersweet.

And Granger, how would SHE take the news? It would certainly be a return slap in the face, that's for sure. The very person who spoke of nothing but ill intent for her ways because of her blood alone was the only person who could get under Potter's skin. The only person who he would ever show his real face to. I'm sure mortification wouldn't cover the half of it.

Gods, how precious it would be if they only_ knew_. Knew that he is usually the one to advance me first. Knew that he likes to wrap his hands around my throat while I ride him until he can't take it anymore. Until he has as to forcefully shove me down and pound into my body mercilessly before he's reached satisfaction. I must say, he even surprises _me_ with how aggressively dominant he can be about it, so I'm sure _they'd_ die of shock.

But, I digress, I'll never say a word. I'll think it, I'll smile bitterly at the fantasies, but I'll keep my mouth shut because there is something more important to me than the mild satisfaction of twinning dazed and confused expressions. This thing that lays between us, whatever it may be, has become much more important to me than _many_ other things in my life and I will (albeit sadly) fight to keep it.

I'm selfish. I always have been and I probably always will be, but I don't care.

Harry Potter is mine.

No one else will ever have that claim -I wont LET anyone else ever have that claim. He is MY enemy, MY relief, MY complimentary opposite, and MY lover. God forbid someone try to take that away from me, be it Granger, Weasley, My father or even the Dark Lord himself.

One day, I suspect it'll all be worth while. When the day comes for me to prove where my allegiances lay, I'll revel in the looks on all those faces when Harry finds himself not standing alone in the face of a darker enemy. When they see me next to him, battling the "person" who had turned both of our lives into a catastrophe worth fighting for.

And maybe it's just relief or maybe it's just common ground, or maybe... maybe it's something deeper. Whatever it is, one thing's for sure…

It's _our_ little secret.

**Owari**


End file.
